


check the catalogue

by ShowMeAHero



Series: are you bad at keeping secrets, too? [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, Libraries, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: Han has a habit of studying alone.There’s no particular reason for it. It’s just habit. Mostly everyone assumes that he’s dumb, or something, and just writes him off. He’d asked Leia why once, and she’d just replied, “Well, Han,lookat you,” and apparently that had been answer enough. So, everybody treats him like he’s sort of dumb, and they always have, and he’s pretty much okay with that. Luke and Leia are good, solid friends, and Lando and Wedge are nice dudes, and this is pretty much all he knows. This is how he’s always acted.Han loves his friends. He’s not lying to them, he just has sort of a… friend persona. Or something. And it’s dumber than he actually is, and that’sfine.He loves his friends, and they love him, and that’s not going to stop anytime soon, so. It’s fine.It’sfine.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: are you bad at keeping secrets, too? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664116
Comments: 9
Kudos: 240





	check the catalogue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carasynthias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carasynthias/gifts).



> For [carasynthias](https://twitter.com/carasynthias)!

Han has a habit of studying alone.

There’s no particular reason for it. It’s just habit. Mostly everyone assumes that he’s dumb, or something, and just writes him off. He’d asked Leia why once, and she’d just replied, “Well, Han,  _ look  _ at you,” and apparently that had been answer enough. So, everybody treats him like he’s sort of dumb, and they always have, and he’s pretty much okay with that. Luke and Leia are good, solid friends, and Lando and Wedge are nice dudes, and this is pretty much all he knows. This is how he’s always acted.

So, he studies alone. He doesn’t really want his friends to think he’s lying to them, but there  _ is  _ a reason he’s in college with them. He’s studying engineering, in theory, but he’ll also just spend free time reading other textbooks he gets his hands on. A guidance counselor he had as a kid told him he was working sideways. He doesn’t care; it’s just easier to get his work done when he’s doing a bunch of things simultaneously.

Han loves his friends. He’s not lying to them, he just has sort of a… friend persona. Or something. And it’s dumber than he actually is, and that’s  _ fine.  _ He loves his friends, and they love him, and that’s not going to stop anytime soon, so. It’s fine.

It’s  _ fine. _

Tragically, though, Han can’t keep this up forever.

He knew this, logically, but in practice, he’d avoided coming clean — if this even  _ counts  _ as coming clean, for something that’s started so stupidly  _ trivial —  _ for a couple years now. It was easy to relax into it and think he’d just keep getting away with his little charade forever.

That was before he was sitting late in the library one Saturday night during spring semester, unable to sleep and unable to focus on anything in his and Lando’s dorm room. Instead, he just wandered the library until he found something that his brain actually cared to focus on, and now he’s reading a book on advanced molecular geometry just so he doesn’t go spinning down the vortex of his own head.

Han hears a soft, surprised inhale, somewhere near the table he’s hunched over. He recognizes it instantly, and it makes him freeze up.

“Han?” Luke asks. Han sighs, rubbing at his own face before he makes himself look up and make eye contact with Luke. He’s just at the end of the row of bookshelves Han likes to hide behind, at the small table pretty much nobody on campus knows about. There’s a few books piled up in his arms. “What’re you doing here? It’s nearly midnight.” His brow furrows, his attention going down to the cover of the book in Han’s hands. Han slams it down flat against the table on instinct with a  _ bang,  _ and they both jump.

“I’m  _ reading,  _ obviously,” Han says. “What’re  _ you  _ doing here?”

Luke narrows his eyes at him. “Why’re you reading here when—”

“You didn’t finish your paper for World Civ, did you?” Han cuts him off. Luke’s cheeks flush, and Han groans. “That’s due in  _ two days,  _ Luke.”

“I know!” Luke exclaims defensively. He turns and shows Han that he’s got his backpack on. “I have my computer, I’m going to finish it, stop yelling at me.”

Han sighs, then kicks out the chair across from him and motions to it. After a beat of hesitation, Luke sits down. Han slams his book shut.

“I’ll help you,” Han says. Luke rolls his eyes, but he drops the books down on the table and lets Han start sorting through them while he boots up his laptop.

* * *

Fast forward a week, and Luke and Leia have dragged Han out to some loud party at a frat house. He’s more of a casual-gatherings sort of guy — back rooms of bars, smoky basements, those sorts of places. They feel more comfortable to him than chaotic places like this, where he only knows a few people total and everyone’s drunk on the most disgusting beer in the continental United States.

Luke loves blowing off steam, though, and Han loves Luke, so he goes. It mostly means he ends up holding Luke’s jacket for him when he gets drunk and overheated, but somebody has to do it, and the thought of anybody  _ but  _ Han doing it makes his blood boil.

Right now, Luke’s about as drunk as he ever gets at these things, laughing and bouncing and delighted with everything that everyone says to him. Some guy got him to dance earlier, but Luke had wormed his way back to Han eventually. Han tries not to read too much into that, but it’s hard not to. Especially with Luke draped across his lap now, half-asleep, breathing into his throat.

“We should probably hit the road, kid,” Han tells him. Luke frowns, shifting slightly to cling tighter to Han. “You’re almost asleep, I’m not carrying your dead weight all the way back to your sister’s room.”

“Then take me back to  _ yours,”  _ Luke murmurs into his neck. Han’s heart starts to race, but he makes himself huff a dry laugh and shake Luke further awake.

“Wake up,” Han tells him. Luke lifts his head, opens his eyes, and makes sleepy, unfocused eye contact with Han. After a moment, he smiles, bright as sunshine and exhausted as all hell. He climbs out of Han’s lap, regretfully, then shakes his limbs out.

“I’m not ready to go yet,” Luke says firmly. He sways a bit, then turns, searching for something. He finds whatever it is, lurching away before Han can even get to his feet, and he comes back with two shots. Passing one to Han, Luke raises his own in a toast.

“One more,” Han bargains. “Then we go.”

“Do it with me and I’ll think about it,” Luke counters. They measure each other up for a moment before Han nods and they both knock back their drinks. When Luke tosses his head back, the long line of his throat exposed as he swallows down the cheap vodka, Han’s quick heartbeat jumps up into triple-time. Luke grimaces then, shaking his hair out and groaning through the burn. Han takes his shot glass from him.

“Alright, time to go,” Han tells him. He sets the shot glasses aside just as Luke grabs his other wrist tight in his hand.

“What the fuck, dude?” Luke asks blearily. Han furrows his brow at him, bewildered. “I mean— With the— With the shot.”

“What?” Han asks. He feels like he lost the thread of whatever Luke was talking about.

“With the shot,” Luke insists. “And the book last week. Are you smart? What the— I just mean. Fuck, are you fucking smart or something?”

Han blinks down at Luke. His big blue eyes are all clouded up, and he looks pale under the freckles spread across his nose, but he’s staring so intently up at Han that Han can’t look away. He feels  _ seen,  _ like his skin’s been pulled back to leave him raw and exposed. He’s not sure he’s ever felt that way before. Luke narrows his eyes a little, then turns and vomits onto the hardwood floor.

Han catches him by the shoulders, guiding him to kneel down when he gags and throws up again, rubbing his back as he shivers in his hands. He tries to forget the piercing way Luke had been looking at him, the intuitive way he’d peeled back Han’s layers in an instant just to ask that simple fucking question — but it’s impossible. Forgetting  _ anything  _ Luke does is always impossible, for him. May as well ask him not to breathe; it’ll have the same outcome.

* * *

Han’s found a new table on a different floor in the library. He didn’t go to the library for a few nights, just to throw Luke off his scent. He’s found a book that’s not about geometry. He’s taken  _ every  _ conceivable precaution short of finding an entirely different library, and, somehow, Luke  _ still  _ catches him.

This time, he’s hidden in a side section of shelving on the fourth floor. There’s a few beanbags and armchairs up there, stuffed behind the computer decks and the reference library, so it’s the perfect hiding spot.

In theory.

Somehow, Luke still finds him, and  _ somehow,  _ Han doesn’t even realize he’s there until he’s standing directly in front of him.

Han jumps, but Luke just pulls the book out of his hands before he can close it or hide it. He holds it up and says, “Organic chemistry? You’re studying  _ engineering.” _

Han stares up at him. “I— It’s for a gen ed.”

“You’re not taking any o-chem gen eds,” Luke points out. Han frowns at him. He didn’t know  _ anyone  _ knew what classes he was or wasn’t taking. Luke just holds the book up and shakes it, then says, “I fucking  _ knew  _ it.”

Han stands up, unable to keep from scowling as he rises to his full height and says, “Knew  _ what?” _

Luke’s cheeks flush pink, but he doesn’t back down. “I knew you weren’t stupid. Like, the way you fixed my mini-fridge in less than _ten minutes_ last November?” Han’s blood runs cold, caught in his lie, but Luke doesn’t even notice, still barrelling on. “And I’ve read your essays when you’ve left your laptop open, and you always help me with my work, and you’re— you’re so fucking _brilliant—”_

_ “What?”  _ Han asks incredulously. Luke just glares at him for interrupting.

“You’re  _ brilliant,”  _ Luke repeats, before continuing like Han hadn’t cut him off at all. “I don’t get why you pretend to act like you’re so stupid dumbass and you let everyone treat you like you’re some gigantic idiot when you’re actually one of the smartest guys I’ve  _ ever  _ met and I—”

That’s as far as he gets before Han’s catching his face in his hands and cutting him off again. This time, he’s kissing him, rather than arguing with him. Briefly, he can’t remember why he doesn’t  _ always  _ try this method when Luke gets too worked up to stop talking.

For a moment, Luke doesn’t respond at all, frozen in place. Then, he drops the textbook in his hands to the ground with a  _ thunk,  _ and he’s grabbing Han’s face to yank him in closer. He licks into Han’s mouth, shoving him backwards into the armchair he just got up out of to kiss him properly, climbing into his lap. Han pulls back, dizzy. Luke just moves down to his throat.

“I didn’t know you were interested in me,” Luke tells him hurriedly. Han drops his head back against the back of the armchair as Luke bites a frenzied kiss into his neck.

“I didn’t know you even  _ noticed  _ me,” Han replies. Luke pulls back to look down at him, frowning. “I just didn’t think you really—” he tries again, then stops, huffing. “Look, I don’t know why we  _ need  _ to talk about this right now—”

“No, tell me,” Luke insists, all flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. It makes Han’s heart pound harder. “You didn’t think I, what?”

Han grinds his back teeth, then sighs. It makes his chest hurt to fucking make words out of the feelings that whirl around his head all the time, but he forces himself to do it for Luke. He manages to get out, “I didn’t think you really noticed me. I mean, obviously you  _ noticed  _ me, what’s  _ not  _ to notice—”

“Han,” Luke says sternly. His hair’s a mess from Han’s hands, and his face is still all pink, and he’s gripping Han’s shirt to stop from toppling backwards out of his lap. His  _ lap.  _ His—  _ Luke Skywalker  _ is  _ in his lap,  _ asking him to just be  _ straightforward  _ and  _ honest  _ for once, and Han’s  _ still  _ fucking around.

He doesn’t  _ want _ to fuck around anymore. Not with Luke.

“I didn’t think you noticed me,” Han starts again, eyes drifting down away from Luke’s as he makes his confession, “beyond being your— I don’t know. Your sister’s hot dumb friend who can— can talk my way into or out of anything. You know? Anything you need me for, I’m here.” Han pauses, then looks from Luke’s chin up to his eyes.

“But?” Luke prompts, lips twitching up at the corners. He can barely keep back the grin that’s threatening to bust through, but he’s doing it, waiting for Han.

Han smiles back. “But,” he says, “turns out— You might be the only one who really  _ sees  _ me, Luke. And I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

The grin bursts through, and Luke  _ laughs,  _ delighted and joyous and brief before he’s dropping his head back down to kiss Han again, gripping him tight and rolling up into him to deepen the kiss in seconds. Han’s hands skim down, over his waist, and Luke shivers again. After a beat, Luke’s slim fingers guide Han’s hand to the hem of his shirt.

“This is a  _ library,”  _ Han hisses. Luke drops his head to kiss him again, as eager as he is turned on, chaotic hands scrabbling to cling to Han as Han tugs him back in for another kiss. That kiss becomes another, then another, deeper, until Han’s licking behind Luke’s teeth and Luke is clawing into his undershirt. Han  _ does  _ pull back, then, trying to pull Luke’s shirt off over his head, but they’re both interrupted by somebody  _ else  _ clearing their throat.

“Please leave,” their librarian tells them. Luke scrambles to his feet, smoothing his hair and straightening his shirt as he stammers an apology, but Han just stands and stretches. He crouches to get his book, but the librarian stops him. “Leave it. You’re banned from the library for the rest of term for inapp—”

“That’s fine,” Han cuts her off. He turns to smile at Luke, who just grins right back over the librarian’s shoulder. He reaches out a hand to him, and Han takes it without hesitation. “I’ve got something more exciting to do now.”

Luke laughs, tugging Han towards the stairwell. He jogs down the stairs two at a time, whirling on Han once they’re two flights down to tug him in for another delighted kiss. He’s smiling too hard to do it properly, and, when Han pulls back, he just beams at him.

“Sorry about that,” Han tells him. Luke grins and hugs him tight.

“Who needs a library when your boyfriend is a fucking  _ genius?”  _ Luke asks, and Han’s heart  _ leaps. _

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) come chat with me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicolelianesolo) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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